


The Art of Disapparating Without a Wand

by Doctor_Awful



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-02-04 16:11:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18607984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Awful/pseuds/Doctor_Awful
Summary: After Harry breaks the taboo during their year on the run, him, Ron and Hermione get captured and made prisoners at Malfoy Manor. Wanting more information from them, Bellatrix is going to torture Hermione, until Ron convinces her to torture him instead. Rated T for violence. Deathly Hallows AU





	1. Chapter 1

**AN:** Hi, this is my first proper fanfic and it’s an AU where when Ron tells Bellatrix to torture him instead of Hermione at Malfoy Manor, she accepts. This first chapter will cover that event and the following will branch out from there. I tried to keep closely to the events of the book in this chapter, with some changes to accommodate for their characters of course, but after this there’ll be more changes than just a mere place swap.

**Disclaimer: Not JK Rowling, don’t own this or the characters, etc. etc. please don’t sue me, thanks**

 

**///////////////////**

Harry broke the taboo and, hearing the voices outside, I knew we had little time. Thinking fast, I did the first thing that came to mind – I pointed my wand at Harry and cast a stinging hex, so that his face swelled up and became chubbier. If he was recognized, we’d all be killed, so he’d have to forgive me once we were safe.

…If we got to safety. The shapes that appeared outside the tent broke in and dragged us outside through the mud, sticks and leaves. Struggling was moot, there were too many of them and, without using my wand, there wasn’t anything I could do against the strong arms that wrestled me to the ground. Even with my wand, which was slightly out of reach in my back pocket, I didn’t know how well we could fare against them. I struggled to try and grab it and was immobilized once more, a strong figure holding my limbs to the ground.

“Get – off – her!” Ron shouted. I heard him struggle as well and tried to turn so I could see him, but all I managed was to hear the sickening sound of knuckles hitting flesh and his grunts that ensued.

“No! Leave him alone, leave him alone!” I screamed. I knew there was nothing we could do for now and that struggling further would only get Ron more hurt, so I tried to get their attention on me instead. He shouldn’t be getting hurt just to protect me, especially when we don’t know who we’re dealing with yet. I wrestle against them further as a hand goes in my front pocket to take my wand, making me feel increasingly helpless. How powerful were they? Were they just snatchers, or a Death Eater capable of torturing us on the spot? Unfortunately, my questions were answered right away.

“Your boyfriend’s going to have worse than that done to him if he’s on my list. Delicious girl . . . What a treat . . . I do enjoy the softness of the skin. . .”The voice of my tormentor was unmistakable, as was the rough scratching of his nails on my arms. His breath was humid and numbing all of my senses, a wretched smell urging me to get away. Knowing that to be impossible, I try again to look for Ron, for a semblance of an assurance that he was okay, but the reply I got this time was his body falling next to me with a thud.

Voices kept flowing through the air – a few Death Eaters searched the tent and argued loudly, and someone else was interrogating Harry. We were all rolled together and I heard them trying to get a name out of Ron.

“Stan Shunpike”

“Like ’ell you are,” said another of our captors “We know Stan Shunpike, ’e’s put a bit of work our way.”

Another fist hit Ron and a scream died in my throat. This wasn’t the time to panic, think, think…

“And lastly, your pretty little friend . . .”

Greyback’s voice shook me once again, and I started running down a mental list of names. Someone unassuming, a girl who I could get mistaken by, someone bookish? No no, that’s-

“We’ll see if she’s a bit quicker at remembering her name than Barny. Who are you, girly?”

“Penelope Clearwater” I say after a moment of hesitation. The Ravenclaw who was petrified with me in second year was again with me in a moment of fear; who knows where she is now? Hopefully not captured already, I know she’s a muggle-born too. Why didn’t I pick a pure-blood?! I, I-

“Blood status?”

“Half-blood” If I told them the truth, either mine or Penelope’s, it’d only make things worse.

They suggested checking, but Ron once again tried to distract them from me. Oh Ron…

Their dialogue about our origins and reasons for being there continued, but thankfully they weren’t hitting Ron anymore. Glancing at Harry, his face is still visibly swollen and near unrecognizable, but I’m unsure of how long the effects of the jinx will last.

My thoughts were interrupted by them yanking Harry up by the hair and dragging him onto another group who was sitting down. Is that…Dean Thomas? And he was accompanied by a goblin too. Me and Ron got dragged as well and, soon enough, all were tied up together with the other group. Harry’s interrogation continued and it seemed to be going well until Scabior came out of the tent, Prophet in hand.

“‘’ermione Granger,’ “ he spouted, loudly, after interrupting Greyback, “ ‘the Mudblood who is known to be traveling with ’arry Potter.’ ”

Oh no.

It’s my fault. I should’ve used the stinging hex on myself as well! I knew they were looking for the three of us, not just Harry, and we had time.

“You know what, little girly? This picture looks a hell of a lot like you.”

I panicked, and the following words out of my mouth came out with a guilty shriek.

“It isn’t! It isn’t me!”

My voice betrayed me and I knew I had only dug a deeper hole for all of us. My arm twitched nervously as I tried to come up with solutions, but nothing came.

Scabior brought Harry’s glasses from the tent and put it on him, as they got a final confirmation that they had found the boy they were looking for. My head spun as they discussed the details of where we were going to be taken. I heard Greyback mention having me as a reward for capturing Harry and now not only did my head spin, but my stomach as well. Ron struggled silently beside Harry once more. The hairs on my arms rose in rows as I imagined my fate at his hands, shivering to imagine his claws ripping my clothes and skin apart. In the best case, I’d be mauled and crippled. And at worst…

I could feel my breathing get faster, my fear taking hold of me, as we were dragged onto our feet and disapparated.

We fell on the entrance to a big, Victorian-style chateau. It was imposing, painted in dark tones, as were the gates in front of us. With a rattle and a few words from the death eaters leading our group they opened, forcing us inside. On the entrance, Narcissa Malfoy awaited us, leading us in after a short argument with the death eaters.

All of us entered a very ornate mansion, though scarce was the chance to take in the details. All I retained was the huge amount of portraits on the walls and the expensive looking crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling. I wouldn’t expect anything else from the Malfoy’s home, really, with their overwhelming worry with bloodline and status. The heavy mood broke as Draco was brought to examine Harry under the chandelier, to lift the doubts the death eaters had over the identity of their victim.

Draco was reluctant to confirm their suspicions…but why? What would he gain from not giving us away as soon as possible? He’s hated Harry for years!

“What about the Mudblood, then?” growled Greyback. They spun us around violently, bringing me to where Harry stood as the others hit the floor.

“Wait,” said Narcissa sharply.

“Yes — yes, she was in Madam Malkin’s with Potter! I saw her picture in the Prophet! Look, Draco, isn’t it the Granger girl?”

“I . . . maybe . . . yeah.” What the hell is Draco up to? Is he just too scared he’ll be wrong, or is he protecting us somehow?

“But then, that’s the Weasley boy!” shouted Lucius, striding around the bound prisoners to face Ron. “It’s them, Potter’s friends — Draco, look at him, isn’t it Arthur Weasley’s son, what’s his name — ?”

“Yeah,” Draco’s non-comital attitude showed through his voice as he turned away from us “It could be.”

The door in front of me opened and Bellatrix Lestrange entered the room. Her high-pitched shrieks shook me while she argued with the rest, and then she turned to stare at me.

“But surely,” she said quietly, “this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?”

Malfoy’s father confirmed her assertion and her expression became an ear-to-ear grin, making me shiver once more. She was going to call the Dark Lord and I had no way to stop her, something that both of us knew and that amused her immensely. Then, the rest of the death eaters tried to stop her. They argued over who’d call Voldemort, who’d get to reap the rewards, and just when Lucius was about to summon the Dark Mark, she shrieked once more.

“STOP! Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!” she said, turning her attention to an object to the side of me. The sword of Gryffindor!

“Give it to me.” Growled Lestrange commandingly.

“It’s not yorn, missus, it’s mine, I reckon I found it.”  The snatcher who said those words had no time to say anything else, however, as Bellatrix cursed him immediately with a bolt of red light. The other captors around the room withdrew their wand but she cursed all of them in a fit of rage, with even Greyback getting knocked down to his knees.

Their argument ensued, with a raging Bellatrix shouting orders and expletives at all others in the room. I was only now learning that the sword was given to her by Snape when Narcissa bellowed a new protest against her and ordered Greyback to take us to the cellar.

“Wait,” said Bellatrix sharply. “All except . . . except for the Mudblood.”

 Greyback gave a grunt of pleasure.

“No!” shouted Ron. “You can have me, keep me!”

No! Ron, what are you doing?! I can’t let you stay in my place! He was hit once more by Bellatrix and the sound of his flesh being bruised stung me inside.

“If she dies under questioning, I’ll take you next,” she said. “Blood traitor is next to Mudblo-“

“You’ll only take her over my dead body you coward! I’m the one that stole the sword you bloody bastard! TAKE ME INSTEAD!” Ron screamed through tears, an almost primal tone to his voice.

His words made my stomach drop. He was willing to die for me?! “NO!” I tried to shout, but it was muffled by Lestrange’s haunting laughter and another violent kick to Ron’s face.

“Who do you think you are, Blood traitor?!” Her shift from cackling laughter to genuine rage was unlike anything I’d ever seen. “Silence! Of course a filthy Mudblood wouldn’t have had the ability to take that from me. It’ll be my pleasure to make her hear your screams.” She finished, coldly.

My mouth opened in another scream, but no sound would come out. He can’t…Ron…

He turned to me and gave a small smile through his swollen, bloodied lips. I can’t believe him, is this still him trying to make up for leaving us? I need to make sure he knows he’s forgiven, that I forgive him completely, that I…but the words fail me as Greyback drags me away with the rest of prisoners, my head painfully grinding on the Malfoy’s wooden floor. The last I see of Ron is him turning to Bellatrix with the same smile he gave me and uttering a defiant “Thank you”, to which she cackled once more.

 Wand in hand, Greyback shoved the rest of the prisoners into the cellar, and held me by the neck. His tongue slid through his lips in a sickly fashion as he bent down and licked my neck.

“Once Bellatrix is done with you two, you and me are going to have a bit of fun…I’ll get a bite or two, wouldn’t you say ginger?!” he said to Ron, laughing, but before I could muster a response I was thrown back down to the cellar.

I can’t leave Ron alone, not now!

Me and Harry were forced down a steep flight of stairs, still tied by our hands and in danger of slipping at any moment. At the bottom was a heavy door. Greyback unlocked it with a tap of his wand, then forced us into a dank and musty room in total darkness. The echoing bang of the slammed cellar door had not died away before there was a terrible, drawn-out guttural scream from directly above.

“RON!” I shouted, fighting against the rope that bonded me and Harry together. He staggered and almost fell over, but tried to hold me back. He’s up there on his own and it’s all my fault…Ron, why did you have to always have to sacrifice yourself for me?! My voice had died when I was facing Bellatrix, the fear took over me, but now that it was back I couldn’t hold it anymore.

“RON!!!! NO!” I was breaking down. I’m supposed to get us out of situations like this, but with Ron suffering the way he is my mind is drawing a blank. Scenes of his contorting face flash through my eyes. I can’t take it, not him, please…

“Hermione, please! Please stop shouting, we need to find a way-“ but Harry’s protest fell on deaf ears.

“RON! RON!!” I kept shouting as his screams filled the air. The volume of my voice fluctuated with my sobs and as those grew, I broke down further.

“We need a plan, stop yelling — we need to get these ropes off —”

“Harry?” came a whisper through the darkness. “Hermione? Is that you?”

Despite my desperation, my sobs slowed down and I stopped shouting. Get yourself together Hermione, you can do this, you’re smart, let’s think of something…but the images didn’t stop, Ron lying on the floor in pain while Bellatrix’s Crucio spell brought him to the brink of consciousness.

Luna and Ollivander emerged from the darkness, addressing me and Harry. Luna and Harry were finding ways of getting us loose, when another of Ron’s yells made me lose my grip on our situation.

“RON!! RON!! PLEASE RON!!” I shouted, not knowing what else to do. I always have a plan, I need to, think Hermione, think! But Ron! Oh why did you have to do this, it’s all my fault...

Harry tried to hold onto me while they cut away at the rope but failed, as I couldn’t control my sobbing.  I heard them talking, but the words themselves were like I was trying to hear them underwater, under all of the pain I head from the man who’d saved me.

Harry shook me again and grabbed me by the shoulders “You need to stay still!” he said, firmly but softly. I breathed deeply and tried to stop as much as possible until they finally cut us free with a rusty nail. Not one second had passed since I had been unbound, Bellatrix’s voice came again from above:

“I’m going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?”

“Like I’m telling you – you – YOU” Ron screamed hard again and I ran up against the wall of the cellar, attacking it with my bare fists with all of my strength, as if that could do anything. Why wouldn’t you just lie Ron?! Why can’t I…

“You are lying, filthy Blood traitor, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!” her voice echoed once more, along with another blood curdling scream.

“RON!”

“What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!”

I started to feel up the dark walls of the cellar around me, attempting to find some sort of hatch or escape. There must be something, there has to! I find a shovel and try to start hacking away at the hinges of the door we were locked behind, with no success. I shift the shovel and attempt getting the tip of it wedged in between the edge of the door and the wall, but even using the shovel as a lever it just won’t budge.

“There’s no way out, Hermione,” said Luna, watching my fruitless efforts. “The cellar is completely escape-proof. I tried, at first. Mr. Ollivander has been here for a long time, he’s tried everything.”

Ron was screaming again: I got down on my knees, sobbing in panic, but this time it seemed to shake Harry too. He repeated some of my steps on the walls and I saw his desperation mounting.

“What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!”

Ron’s screams echoed off the walls upstairs and I couldn’t help but curl myself into a ball and grab my knees. I’d done this, it’s my fault he’s up there and not me, it’s all my fault, why did I let him, oh why Ron why would you do this! I heard Harry shift around again, messing with something.

“Help us!” Harry yelled at an object in mad desperation. “We’re in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, help us!” Who was he talking to? Had he gone as mad as I had?

The screams became louder than ever and I couldn’t help but reply as I had.

“RON!! OH RON!!”

 I don’t know why I kept bellowing, my voice hoarse and weak. Maybe it was all borne out of a faint hope that he’d listen to me and hold on. Maybe it’s the only way I have to show him all of the feelings I’ve kept hidden all of these years, now that I doubt I’ll ever be able to speak with him again. All of the chances, and I lost them, and now this amazing, amazing man had given his life for me, and I was useless to stop it.

“RON!! PLEASE!!”

“How did you get into my vault?” Bellatrix shouted again. “Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?”

“We only met him tonight!” Ron sobbed, in tandem with me. “We’ve never been inside your vault. . . . I got it from a lake! It comes to Gryffindo-”

“A LAKE?! EVEN NOW YOU MOCK ME, YOU DISGRACE FOR A PURE-BLOOD?!”

“I swear, it was me, it was all me, no one else!” Ron pleaded

A small pop broke the silence in the cellar and a small figure with large orbs for eyes appeared in their midst.

“…Dobby?” Harry whispered, being the closest of the group to him.

“TELL THE TRUTH YOU INSOLENT!” Bellatrix’s anger vibrated throughout the manor and I anticipated what was to come. But when Ron’s voice reached my ears, it was much worse than I could’ve ever expected, and the tears replaced any kind of rational thought that might be forming in my mind.

Out of the sudden, Dobby and the others were gone in a loud crack, and it was just me and Harry.

“Where are they?” I asked, though my voice was so rough that I’d be surprised if Harry understood me completely, but he did not reply as Lucius Malfoy’s voice boomed from above.

“What was that? Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?”

Steps sounded over our heads as Harry and me looked at each other at each other.

“Draco — no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!”

More footsteps and silence ensued, the absence of Ron’s screams being both comforting and frightening simultaneously. He can’t be dead, he can’t!

“Let’s hide behind that cabinet Hermione, in the dark he won’t see us. I’ll tackle him, and you’ll have to grab his wand!” In a role reversal, I nodded at Harry’s plan and stood ready for his signal to move.

“Stand back,” came Wormtail’s voice. “Stand away from the door. I am coming in.”

Wormtail stepped into the dark cellar in expectation. A second or two after, we attacked. I muffled Wormtail’s voice and tried to steady his wand arm while Harry held him from behind and kept his movement in check. Wormtail stepped backwards and rammed against the wall, Harry’s head hitting the solid structure with a sickening sound. I finally get Wormtail’s wand off but he’s spun around and started chocking Harry. I hold my wand up to him, but Harry and Wormtail stare into each other’s eyes, causing Wormtail to have a split second of compassion for the boy who had once saved his life. This split second allowed Harry to roll him over and knock him backwards into the cabinets, causing a loud noise. As soon as he collapsed to the ground, Wormtail’s hand started gripping his own neck.

Harry seemed to notice and try to pry the cold, silver fingers off, but Ron’s pained voice boomed above us once again and I grabbed Harry’s other hand, leading him out of the cellar.

We walked up the steps slowly, attempting not to be noticed. Peaking into the drawing room, the Malfoys were sitting next to the hearth while Bellatrix’s lanky figure kneeled near Ron’s left arm with a knife, the rest of the death eaters holding him down. Ron’s screams and her voice filled the room.

“After I’m done branding him, I think we can dispose of the Blood traitor. Unless we want to make that Mudblo-“

“NOOOOO!” I screamed, frozen in place. The sight before me was too much, and while my body was still, Wormtail’s wand in my hand seemed to move out of its own accord. Bellatrix and the others holding Ron down let go of him to reach for their own wands, but they were too late.

“Expelliarmus!” I roared, hitting Bellatrix’s wand and sending her and the others backwards, away from Ron. Bellatrix’s wand flew into the air and landed in Harry’s hand, who sprinted in Ron’s direction. He yelled “Stupefy” and Lucius Malfoy collapsed onto the hearth; his family replied in stride to Harry’s curses but he rolled behind a couch to avoid them.

“STOP OR HE DIES!”

Panting, Harry peered around the edge of the sofa. Bellatrix was supporting Ron, who seemed to be unconscious, and was holding her short silver knife to his throat.

“Drop your wands,” she whispered. “Drop them if you don’t want to see your little knight bleed”

I couldn’t move, but I’d swap places with him in a heartbeat. Admitting defeat, I drop Wormtail’s wand, but Harry remains steady.

“You too Potter, I said drop them!” She shrieked pressing her blade against his throat, droplets of blood the same colour as his hair shining the edge of the blade.

“All right!” he shouted, and he dropped Bellatrix’s wand onto the floor at his feet. I followed his queue to raise my arms in the air in defeat, which he also did.

“Good!” she leered. “Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!”

As Bellatrix started shouting orders to her sister, a peculiar grinding noise from above made everyone in the room put their eyes on the chandelier. It trembled, and then, with an ominous jingling, began to fall. Bellatrix jumped aside with a yell, letting Ron take the brunt of the impact. The explosion of crystal had the Malfoys huddle together to protect from the flying fragments, an opportunity taken by Harry to run over and snatch the wands Draco was holding. As if getting released from a spell, I finally come to my senses and run towards Ron. His arms, face and neck are bloody, but I know better than to try and wake him violently. Feeling him warm in my arms drives away some of the despair I felt, but I know he’s far from being in the clear.

In a rush, Harry cursed our captors, sending Greyback and two of the other death eaters flying. In the meantime, the small figure from before comes near me to try and remove Ron from under the chandelier.

“Dobby!” Narcissa screamed, and even Bellatrix froze. “You! You dropped the chandelier — ?”

He responded without turning away from the task at hand.

“You must not hurt Harry Potter or his friends,” he squeaked in the effort to slide Ron away from the mountain of mangled crystal.

“Harry, we can’t move him! Come to us!” I yell, knowing this is the opportunity we were looking for.

Harry vaults over a table that got knocked over in the explosion and joins us, but Bellatrix reacts just as we were about to turn to disapparate.

“Oh no you won’t!” Her knife, still dripping with Ron’s blood, flew through the room and disapparated with us.

We had disappeared into the unknown, but it seemed Harry knew where to take us – I assume, to the same place where Griphook, Dean Thomas, Luna and Ollivander got taken before.

Still shifting through the darkness, I finally felt Ron’s weight on my arms, moving slightly under my embrace. His expression was oddly peaceful, and I could only hope that no matter what that vile woman had done to him, that we could have him back one day. That I could have him one day.

Feelings of regret fill my chest, as I realize how dumb I’ve been all of this time. He was ready to die for me with no hesitation, and I couldn’t even muster the guts to tell him I forgive him, much less tell him how I’ve really felt all of this time. This wonderful, wonderful man that I don’t deserve. I clutch him closer to me as tears fill my eyes once more, but all I know is after this, I’ll have to not only tell him all of what I feel, but show it too.

And then we hit solid earth and crash in a large mound of grass. I look around me, still holding onto Ron, and see Dobby and Harry sprawled around us just the same, with Dobby lying face down on the grass. The area feels oddly familiar, smelling of fresh cut grass and flowers and-

A windmill of red hair ran in our direction, making with it fall an invisible barrier that stood around the area. I looked up and saw the several stories high of a crooked house built in the middle of the field, and realized where Harry had taken us.

We were at the Burrow.


	2. Prisoner of Conscience

**AN:** Hi! So, as you know, I'm new to this fic-writing business, and I'm still learning how to pace my writing. Originally, I had planned to make this chapter + the following two into one chapter and knocking it out in one go, but as it turns out, I got carried away and it just got way too big. It's why this first update is taking so long.

Realizing that, I thought it'd be better to split it up into three smaller chapters which will be posted as this week goes along, so I don't fatigue people two chapters into my fanfic. That said, I'll be working on future chapters during this time as well, so don't expect future updates to take as long (unless college gets in the way, which it will).

Thanks for reading and reviews of any kind (even the simpler ones that just say I'm rubbish) are appreciated!

///////////////

It was already late into the evening, but Ron was still unconscious, and my panic wasn't subsiding. Earlier, Mrs. Weasley had healed most of his superficial wounds and spread some weird-smelling cream on his arms, which she proceeded to cover up with two layers of bandages. Even so, the bandages were reddened, showing that his cuts were still open and more serious than I expected it.

I had taken a very detailed book on the Unforgivable Curses, their history, usage and effects with me in our beaded handbag, and I now had it on my lap. It was a way to try and lessen my fears – knowing more about things that threatened me always made my panic subside, even if it proved to be more serious than expected – but this time I couldn't even manage to read the words on the page. The start of the section about Crucio lay open on top of my knees, but I couldn't ever read past the second line without my thoughts getting blurry and focusing back on the bed in front of me.

Ron was really hurt, even after Mrs. Weasley's initial treatment. His face, previously bloodied, was full of claw marks and small cuts from the chandelier that had fallen on him. His arms were initially so covered in blood that I didn't get to see the depth or shape of his wounds, but the scars from our assault on the Ministry in 5th year were still visible above the bandages, shining brightly against the dirty pale white of his skin. His clothes were completely torn and he had had small gashes throughout his exposed skin, though thankfully most were healed by now. However, despite all of that, the main thing that worried me wasn't his body, but his mind.

The Crucio curse was an Unforgivable not only because of the immediate aspects – though those were horrifying, as I was able to hear first-hand – but due to the long-term damage too. For some, it was considered a fate worth than death. I can't help but remember our visit to St. Mungo's at Christmas, so long ago, where we saw a glimpse of the current state of Neville's parents. How long were they tortured for? What if Ron woke up like them, unable to truly smile at me with those sparkling eyes or joke like he used to anymore. What would be of our petty bickering, that I now miss so? Would he be the same Ron? Would he even remember me?

He stirred in front of me, groaning painfully at something in his mind and convulsing slightly. That had been going on for hours now and showed no signs of stopping. Mrs. Weasley had told me to call her whenever he spoke, even in his sleep, or showed any signs of waking up. She had stayed by his side for a few hours after Fred had carried him in, as had Ginny, Fred and George. For some reason, Harry and Dobby stayed outside, as had Mr. Weasley, and they hadn't come up to Ron's room yet. Luna and Dean Thomas had shown up to check on him but stayed by the door silently, eventually leaving as stealthily as they'd arrived. As time went on, the crowd around Ron dispersed, leaving me and his mother on our own, and then only me. Mrs. Weasley had a fuller house than ever now, aside from Bill's wedding, and the current commotion downstairs indicated that there was a lot being taken care of regarding accommodations and maybe healing of other injuries.

Another rattle from Ron and I can't help but clutch his hand tighter to me and get even closer to him. His face was contorted into a painful grimace and his right hand clawed at his bed softly, while I held the other one. I try to take my mind away from what his condition would be once he got out of this stupor by looking around the bright orange walls of his room, now looking more of a shadow of brown due to the light coming in from the window. I've been a lot here over the years, sometimes only with Ron – though, never in a way close to what I'd desire to be doing in his room with him – but a lot of times on my own, doing chores like changing his bedsheets or fetching something. Sometimes, when I felt more daring and as my feelings grew for him, I couldn't help myself but hug his pillow and drown how much it smelled like his hair. Once I even did the same with some of his t-shirts, until I heard some floorboards creaking in the stairs before his room and hastily put everything where it belonged. But now everything wasn't where it belonged. He was lost in a painful haze, trying to navigate the path back to the real world after having taken my place, instead of being where he belongs…with me.

He stirred again in front of me, his groan now sounding like a vague "no", though I can't tell for sure.

"Ron?" I ask in a weak voice, stuck in a moment where I'm unsure if I want to hear the answer, or if there even is one. Come on Hermione, aren't you a Gryffindor?

The same "no" sound comes from his throat, now a bit more prolonged, and I'm even more doubtful. If I could accept that that's a no, the tone would be similar to the one he used when asking to swap places with me. The thought that he might be reliving the events of a few hours ago horrifies me, so I just get closer together to him and ask again.

"Ron?"

"Her-Her-…" The response, raspy and panicked, sends a shiver through my body.

Both his shifting and breathing quickens in pace, and I feel that although he just made a sound, he's no closer to this reality than before.

"Ron? Please say something."

His head shifts from side to side, struggling. He releases some more raspy "No!"'s before speaking again, more panicked than ever.

"Hermione!" Although spoken at a very low volume, the tone in which it is said makes it sound like a scream.

Of all words to be using when in pain, my name? He must be re-living it, oh Ron, this is the worst way to answer my fears…A wave of sadness and terror goes through me, until it hits me that I need to call for Mrs. Weasley.

"Hermione! No! Hermione!" The new outburst comes as I was getting up and it glues me to the floor. My instinct is to hold is hand closer and tell him everything is going to be okay, but I need to call his…

"Hermione! Hermione!" His voice grows louder, and his eyelids briefly flash open, revealing two completely white eyes below them. He closes them just as quickly, convulsing violently.

"Hermione!"

I unglue myself from the floor and from his hand and force myself to go to the door and call for help.

"Mrs. Weasley! Please come quick! Anyone, please! It's Ron, help!" The words escape from my mouth with a cry. Tears are running down my face, I can't take seeing him like this, and hearing my name from his lips makes it even worse. How could someone so good, so brave, be put through this much pain?

"Hermione! HERMIONE! PLEASE NO!" His shout as grown and now I'm sure anyone below would've heard him even without my call. His eyes are closed in strain and his painful expression grows deeper, and I can't help but start sobbing. I heard the rumbling of feet running up the stairs and grab his hand, an attempt at providing some level of comfort before the real help comes. Please, please, come quick…

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" His voice is now so loud that it takes me back to the Malfoy's as well, and I can't help but let out a scream of my own.

"RON! I'm here Ron, I'm here!"

The rumbling is now at the top of the stairs leading to his room, and by the noise it makes on the creaky steps I'm sure that it isn't just his mother.

"HERMIONE!" His voice grows hoarse and his convulsing slows down, but he opens his lips and this time Ron's words come softly, to the point where I'm sure no one else would hear. "I love you"

My heart stops.

Then his convulsing resumes, and before I can react, I'm dragged out of the room in a frenzy. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley go in on their own and close the door behind them as they start to mutter incantations.

Outside of his room, I lean back against the wall closer to his bed and break down further. I feel the wall shake behind me and quite a few pairs of eyes on me, but the tears burn through my eyes and my chest heaves, desperate for air between my sobs. Slowly, a pair of hands – one small and one large – rest on either of my shoulders, and I glance up to see George and Ginny on their knees in front of me, with Fred behind them against the opposite wall.

"Ron and making you cry, tsk tsk" George starts, jokingly.

"That bloody bastard! He needs a stern talking to, he does." Fred follows up, and the two of them get into a familiar rhythm, trying to comfort me.

"What did he say this time?"

"Was ickle Ronniekins jealous again?"

"Even spending a year alone in a tent with you wasn't enough!"

"I'd reckon he ended up snogging Harry to try and make her jealous."

"Only Ron could've cocked it up like that!" They finished, nodding to each other with a smirk.

I stammer between another sob and a giggle, but the tears overpower me. Still, I try to speak.

"It-It-It's my fau-ult he's like this" Hearing this, Ginny comes closer in a hug. I put my head up and can see both twins lying against the back wall now with an apprehensive look, while Dean Thomas and Luna peak from the stairs. Behind them, I hear another set of footsteps sprinting up.

"He sacrificed him-himself for me" I say, still stammering but now calmer, trying to wipe the tears as more come to replace the ones I cleaned. "That idiot! He took on Lestrange and to-told her to take him instead of me. It's all my fault!" I hide my head in my arms again and let the sobs take me over again.

"I know my brother's an idiot, but I bet he'd say that's the smartest thing he's ever done." Says Ginny, patting me on the back still. The rumbling stops as Harry pushed past Dean and Luna, apologetically, reaching me and enveloping me in a hug. Ginny stepped back, her expression crooked between a soft smile and a frown, and leaned against the door.

"Mum and Dad went in a while ago" she said to Harry, glaring at him.

"He's going to be fine Hermione" Harry's hands now replaced Ginny's on my back, and I found myself calming down. "It's not your fault, there was nothing you could do." His eyes locked on mine and I saw he understood my pain, having been there with me. I was glad no other words had to be shared, I wouldn't want to have to give everyone else a detailed description of what happened so soon. Thankfully, they didn't seem to expect one, and slowly started walking out on us, leaving me alone with Harry. Once everyone else had left, I felt safe enough to let it all out.

"But it is my fault Harry. He wouldn't be…like this if it wasn't for me, I should be the one suffering like he is right now. And if I didn't give him the cold shoulder for so long, maybe-" Harry interrupted my outpour by shaking his head.

"He's always been the first to jump in front of danger to protect us, Hermione. More than anyone with you, you should know that. His gaze and soft smile seemed to imply extra meaning to those words, which took me back to moments before when I heard Ron's voice for the last time. Would it be the last time? I had wanted to say that so many times over the years, and now there's a chance he won't get to hear them, at least not as the real Ron. My dark thoughts were interrupted by Harry, who continued.

"I hate it, I absolutely hate it. I'd take his place in an instant, especially knowing that more than everyone this is my fault." He shushed me before I could protest. "Ron's just…Ron. He's mental, he doesn't seem to think he does enough, so then he goes and gives his life for us, again and again."

He said this with a frown and a guilty tone, so I tried to change the subject.

"So…what took you so long? I haven't seen you since we arrived." I immediately regretted my choice of words, but Harry seemed to pay no mind to it.

"It's Dobby…He's dead."

A pang of guilt took over once more and my mind twisted into itself, a whirlwind of memories and feelings taking over my thoughts. Dobby, the sweet elf who was tortured by the Malfoy's like us, who Harry freed, who took care of all the cleaning in Gryffindor tower because all of the other elves were offended at my doing. The free elf, who still only wanted to help. And now he was gone for good, all to save us.

Harry's tears matched my own, and I couldn't help but stutter before speaking.

"It-it's our fault, isn't it?"

A melancholic expression set on his face, unsure of what else to say, before shooting me a knowing look.

Harry held my hand and gripped it tightly. We've been through enough that words weren't needed to convey what we were both feeling.

Everything would get much worse before it got better.


	3. For a Fleeting Moment

Minutes that felt like hours had passed until finally, the door to Ron's room opened and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came out, with their head low and a slight frown.

Ginny looked into her mother's eyes with a worried expression before speaking.

"Does this mean he'll be okay?" Her voice was shy and soft. Despite her tough exterior and the frequent verbal jabs at him, Ginny really did care for her Ron a lot. She was fidgeting with a string from her sweater and had been walking back and forth along the corridor to his room so much I expected her to start leaving dents on the floor.

"I don't know, Ginny dear… we'll have to wait until he wakes up." Mrs. Weasley replied in a similar tone. "We used a spell that we learned after the last war, to prevent cases like the Longbottom's to happen again, but we…it's the first time we tried it, and he should wake up on his own soon enough, and we'll see how he is then. Come down Hermione, you skipped supper and we haven't taken care of your injuries yet." Mrs Weasley got closer to me and then noticed a large scrape on my arm, which I knew was superficial. "Oh we have to get that sorted right away, come with me."

I knew she had good intentions, but I couldn't abandon Ron right now, not for anything.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley but I need to stay with Ron." I said, seeing a confused look in her eyes. I continued firmly "After all that happened, I couldn't forgive myself if I wasn't there when he woke up."

Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath before answering. The rims of her eyes were red, the treatment she gave to Ron obviously taking a toll and straining her. Now that I got a closer look at her, I could see she had gained some wrinkles since the last Summer and was now sporting some deep dark shadows below her eyes. The effect of our absence was clearly deeper than anticipated, and I felt guilty for not trying to communicate sooner, despite the enormous danger. We were here now after all, weren't we?

"I understand. Ginny will bring something up, won't you dear?" she said and Ginny quickly nodded. Ginny and her parents went downstairs and I was left alone at the entrance to Ron's room. I felt fearful of going in, imagining all the possibilities of what Ron would look like, but stepping into the room I could see he looked just the same as before. He had new bandages, these weren't soaked in blood, and seemed to be more peaceful.

I pulled the chair where I was sitting before and grab his hand closest to me. Feeling him tighten me back, even if I knew he wasn't awake, almost brought tears to my eyes again. I traced his face with my fingers and his lips curled upwards in a short grin, reminding me oddly of Crookshanks. Might he be awake already and just messing with me? His grin disappeared again, so I took that as a no.

Minutes went by and Ginny came up, conjuring a chair next to me and handing me a plate with a slice of meat pie and a fork. As I ate, she started talking.

"We already set up two camp beds in my room. It'll be tight, but you'll be kipping with me and Luna." Without the weight of Ron's then ongoing treatment weighing on me, I noticed Ginny's face looked as tired as her mother's. There also had not yet been a mention of Hogwarts, which I found suspicious, but decided to investigate at a later time.

"Ginny, you know I'm not leaving his side." I say firmly between bites, trying not to be too sharp as to sounding rude. "Besides, it's not like Harry is going to be sleeping here, is he?"

At a mention of Harry, Ginny's face darkens further and her eyes turn downwards. I regret the mention, but timidly continue.

"I'm sorry. Have you talked to him since he's arrived?"

"S'alright Hermione, and no we haven't. It's really weird, y'know? Being so close to him after splitting and being so long apart. S'even weirder with Dean here." She looked away as she finished the sentence, embarrassed of the awkward love triangle that now seemed to torment her, and maybe that she was even mentioning it at all in light of current events.

"They're gonna kip in Percy's room together, I hope it's not too bad for 'em. I reckon Harry hasn't paid it much mind, he's been busy with taking care of Dobby's funeral for tomorrow." At her words, my stomach sank, realizing how little I thought about the house elf that saved us after Harry told me he'd died after Apparating. I didn't even ask why, or how he had been there in the first place, I just nodded sadly and asked if he was okay, then proceeded to focus on Ron. Ginny continued.

"Then there's also Mr. Ollivander and Mr. Griphook, who we slotted in Charlie's room, but they don't seem to get along that well. It's a mess, but they'll have to sort themselves out, they're not on holiday y'know." she said, a small spark of her usual fire coming through in her words.

"Hey" Said a sleepy voice in front of us. Before I could react, Ginny had jumped into her brother's arms with a yell. His eyes were slightly open and, while petting her hair in their uncomfortable hug, he looked at me. He is awake! Oh Merlin, I'm so happy! All of my dark thoughts got pushed away and replaced by his sloppy grin, covering me in warmth.

"You scared us you total prat! We thought you were a gonner!" She said, hitting him in the chest, making him cough loudly. "It's been less than a year since last time you got yourself in a pickle like this and forced poor Hermione here to look after your sorry ass!" she said all of this with a smile on her face, still hugging him.

"Love you too Gin. Now let me breathe you lunatic."

The nightmare of today was finally abating, but Ron's clear blue eyes made it so no clarity was gained from that. Ginny pulled back and noticed we were still looking at each other.

"Oh…well, I'll leave you to it then. Don't do anything I wouldn't do in the sanctity of our home!" she proclaimed in a sarcastic tone, then left with a wink.

"So…" I started, unsure of what to address first.

"So." He replied, and both of us looked down, unsure of what to say.

"That was…really stupid Ron." I couldn't help but giggle nervously "really brave and charming and oh so Ron, but also really stupid. I almost lost you!"

"I couldn't help it, but I'd do it all over again." He noticed my angry expression before continuing. "It's true! I was just imagining Greyback's claws all over you, and Bellatrix… I'm glad it happened the way it did."

"Ron, I-"

"In fact, I dreamt it. After getting home, I dreamt it, what would've happened if you were in my place, after she was done with me. I thought it was real, the dream mixed with what I remember from before and it was horrifying." He paused, sitting up with some difficulty. "The stuff of my bloody nightmares, seeing you like that. All I could do was scream your name…hell, I was so out of it I even tried Disapparating without a wand."

"Oh Ron!" I jump to his arms like Ginny before me, but this time he hugs me tightly. After a few seconds, he pulls us apart slightly so he can look into my eyes while still holding me in his arms. The proximity of the act was like a shock, bringing butterflies from my stomach to my now red cheeks. Sensing his scent was exhilarating, something I tried as much as possible to avoid while we were stuck in the tent. He was now so close, I had to muster all of my strength not to lean forward and kiss him. Trying to gather my thoughts, I follow up on what he just told me.

"What do you remember from what happened?"

"S'all a bit of a blur really, I thought for sure I was dead…" He scratches his hair embarrassingly. As if there was anything embarrassing about what he went through! "Greyback clawed at me first and pinned me down, but Bellatrix made sure he didn't go too far before she started…blasting at me with the Unforgivable."

I shudder at the memory of his screams and Bellatrix's shouts of "Crucio!". Seeing this, he pulls us apart further but his eyes widen.

"It's unlike anything else 'Mione. Getting poisoned last year, the brains fifth year, that felt like swimming in a fountain of chocolate pudding while using pigmy puffs as floaters compared to this." I roll my eyes at the silly comparison to something so serious, but he continues. "The blood in my veins felt like it had grown very viscous and was moving very slowly, like tar." As he says this, he locks eyes with me and puts our hands togethers, fingers outstretched. "My skin felt like it was burning, along with every hair and nail trying to pull apart from my body. Even breathing felt like swallowing daggers, every breath felt like I was cutting myself open. And then my arms… I thought she was digging out my flesh in them, the only thing still in its place was the bone."

A deep breath. The pause allowed me to process what he was saying, and the guilt I felt intensified. What he was telling me was horrifying, but I couldn't allow myself to break.

"S'pose I'd have been done for, but I heard your voice Hermione. Just like before, you were only saying one word, my name. I thought I was going mental really, that the spell had buggered me beyond repair already, but I focused on it. And through that, just focusing on your voice, I managed to come back to you again. Twice you saved me just by calling my name, that's if it was really you and not just me being bollocksed." He scratched his head again, his face now low. "You must think I'm mental."

"It was me." I can't help but feel emotional at his description, but now, unlike when he came back to the tent, I could show it. "It was me, I heard your screams and just…I didn't know what else to do. I thought I'd lost you for good, and I couldn't have that, not anymore." It was my turn to feel embarrassed. He was going through all of that, and all I could do was yell his name. So pathetic… but I continued. "I was locked in the basement with Harry and the others. I clawed at the walls, bashed a door with a shovel, I… I don't even remember exactly how we got out, but a chandelier fell on you, I grabbed you, and somehow Dobby of all people took us here." I finished, now looking up at his wide eyes.

"Hermione Granger, finally putting her big muscles to good use." He said with a grin.

"Oh shut up!" I laughed, and his smile grew wide, as if making that joke was worth the pain.

"Did you say Dobby? What's that lil' bugger up to? Is he still here?" Ron replied, making me feel sick at myself for not even asking what exactly had happened to him.

To be honest, I didn't even know how he knew he was there. House Elf magic getting through wards made to repel Wizards is nothing new, but knowing we were there and in trouble is something else entirely. And I didn't know why or how he died either. Might have he gotten splinched in the trip?

"Dobby…he died on the way here. I don't know why exactly, I haven't asked yet. But Harry's the one taking care of it, we'll bury him in the morning."

"Oh Merlin, poor Dobby, I can't believe he was there, it's nothing to do with him and he still…you know? He's supposed to be safe in all of this." My urge to kiss him grows to a boiling point and I almost jump forward to meet his lips. He's changed! He's grown so much, how is this the same boy that once mocked my efforts to save the elves? I can't delay it any further, I need to tell him.

"Ron, I…I lo-"

"I was wondering how long it'd take." Harry's voice boomed from the entrance of the room and for a moment I wondered if he's talking about what I was about to say, but I realize that that can't be possible. "Finally woken up, you lazy git!" He walked towards the bed and gave Ron a hug of his own. Physical affection wasn't that common with them, but now it felt fitting. We had been cold to each other for so long in that tent and this was a release from all of that tension. I wondered if the reason no one had asked me to describe properly what happened is that Harry had already done it for me.

"How are you feeling? I see you're well taken care of at least!" Harry glanced at me as he said these words and I couldn't help but blush.

"Bloody terrible, how does it look? I'm always bed-ridden near you two, it's impossible!" Ron's reference of his splinching and poisoning brought the tone down a bit, but Harry responds as cheerily as before.

"Same as always then, at least you're used to suffering due to this one's care." He said facing me. If I wasn't already fully red before, I sure was now. His double entendre, intentional or not, was the last thing we needed! I love Harry, but he can be so clueless sometimes.

"Don't let anyone else know he's awake." The words come out of my mouth before I stop myself, and I end up putting a hand in front of my mouth in regret. I knew what would happen if Mrs. Weasley knew Ron was doing well – I'd have to leave and go sleep with Ginny. As much as I like Ginny, tonight I needed Ron…and I liked to believe he needed me too.

"Why?" Ron and Harry said at the same time, confused both by my request and by how flustered I was. Make something up Hermione, quick…

"It'd be a mess! People would all come up to talk to and check on him, Harry usually sleeps here so rooms would need to be re-arranged, and I think some people are in for the night already. Don't bothers Mrs. Weasley with that right now Harry, will you?" I said, hoping to sound convincing, but knowing I must've sounded like a nervous first year giving an excuse for being caught with puking pastilles.

"Uhhh, okay, if you say so. Not that I'm too content with my sleeping arrangements, sleeping alone with Dean when Ginny's just a few feet away is worse than sleeping at the Dursleys' "

"Cheer up mate, at least it's not sleeping in a bunk below my snorin' like you have for the past year, and I'm sure none of them are too thrilled themselves innit?" Ron, who usually wanted nothing with his sister's love life, seemed to delight in the drama. Who are you, Ronald Weasley?

Harry headed for the door, turning back with a more sombre look.

"Rest tonight. We have a lead on the last Horcruxes, and after last night…I want to drag as little people as possible in this. Good night you two." Like Ginny before him, he left us with a wink and closed the door behind him.

A few seconds pass until both of us shift a bit closer.

"So what was the real reason? You can't fool me Granger!" he said with a smug grin.

"Pipe down or it'll give us away!" Playing along felt like the smartest choice, and I somehow enjoyed having Ron see me be the mischievous one for once. "Your mother said to call her once you woke up, and my bed is set in Ginny's room. But if you only woke up in the morning, well…" My statement made his eyes so wide he looked like an owl, and I couldn't help but revel in it. The creaking floorboards of the staircase warned me to someone coming, so in a rush I pushed his body back to the mattress and leaned my head on his chest.

"Just pretend you're asleep!" I said, just before realizing exactly what I had done. Even if not in a sexual way, I was lying on top of Ron and I could feel all the warmth of his chest, his breathing becoming faster, his heartbeat. His scent rattled my mind once more. It made my fingertips tingle, but I knew I couldn't give it away now.

The door opened slowly and Mrs. Weasley walked into the room. Even with my eyes closed, I could hear her walk around us and feel her examine Ron, but at the end we seemed to have her fooled, Which, deep down, was something I didn't find quite right – we were giving her one more night of nervousness, unsure of her son's state - , but telling her would also force us apart, so I'd have to make it up to her later. She lifted Ron's bed covers up to my head and covered me in a blanket, then walked away and closed the door behind her.

"I never knew you were capable of being so naughty, Hermione." He said without lifting his head. The vibration of his chest as he was speaking soothed me. This was a more comfortable way of sleeping than I expected…

"Always the tone of surprise." I replied cheekily. "If you think this is me being naughty, you've seen nothing yet." Did I really just say that?! What has gotten into me?! Being so close to him got a few of my screws loose.

"Blimey, I thought I'd manage to corrupt you eventually, but this is something else." Now he lifted his head as he spoke, and our eyes were together. His eyes shone, reflecting the moonlight coming in through the window, and my most wish of just letting myself drown in them seemed to be coming true. However, it was overpowered by the feelings of guilt I'd been pushing down, and every time my heart grew closer to his, I'd feel a sharp knife digging into mine for what I've done – or rather, what I failed to do.

"Oh Ron, I'm so sorry! This is all my fault!" I hugged his chest tightly and the tears flew freely now. I could feel the worried look on his face even without turning to face him. He hugged my head tighter to his chest and started running his right hand through my hair slowly, comforting me.

"Shhh, shhh, s'alright…"

"It's not! It's really not! If only I… If only…" But I broke down further. Even if he wanted to deny it, it was because of me that he was so hurt, and that's not something that I'd ever accept lightly. And that small doubt in the back of my mind that told me it was because of him trying to make up for leaving, it only made it worse.

"Shhh…s'ok, I'm here, we're here, together, we'll be fine." His words seemed to take a double meaning, which he seemed to realize, although we both knew the war was far from over and things wouldn't be fine until it was. Possibly, not even then. "Uh, I mean, we're all together in this, right?"

He kept running his hands through my hair and I felt myself melt against him. I could feel the bones of his chest digging slightly into my skin, but I adjusted my head and everything seemed to fit perfectly together. I wanted to tell him I missed him, that I loved him and I would never let him go again, but it both felt like not the time, and like I'd lack the strength to fully let those words out of my mouth. In place of the unsaid words, the fingers of his left hand interlocked with mine, and somehow that felt like all that needed to be said.

Lying with him, I could stay this way forever. However, the tiredness of the past days started to catch up, and I felt myself drift away into sleep, soothed by his hands through my hair and interlocked in mine. My last thought before was that somehow, some way, I'd manage to make it up to him for everything he's done, to maybe one day get to a point where we could be like this again. Together.


	4. Departed

That morning at the Burrow had been, as expected, hectic.

Breakfast was eaten everywhere but at the table – Mr. Ollivander and Griphook got breakfast served in their room, and the same would've happened with Ron had he not gotten up and been swarmed with love from his family. Everyone else ate on their feet, usually walking around, trying to make plans for the following days. There was also a lot of catching up to do. We had been a year on the run after all, we knew that our presence here would only put everyone in more danger. Staying at the Burrow wasn't a permanent solution and we had to move fast.

It was a cloudy day, not unusual for southwest England even in April. The Burrow looked just as we'd left it months prior, still cluttered and tight, but unbelievably cosy and permeated in affection. The flowers outside swaying in the wind, the usual smell of cut grass, the commotion throughout the house, Mrs. Weasley's warm meals, it all brought a much-missed sense of familiarity and comfort that we'd desperately missed throughout the last year. Unfortunately, all of it was tainted by the knowledge that even getting caught, much less coming to the Burrow, might've put the entire Weasley family in danger. This support was just something none of us could afford, however good it felt to see have good food after so long and to see Ron in good spirits. I wondered how much of his good spirits might be from me not giving him the cold shoulder anymore, not feeling like he has to walk on eggshells with me. Just thinking of our previous situation made me feel silly for behaving so pettily, so I tried to shake all of these ideas off and focus on the outline for today. I'm not given much time, with everyone moving outside for a ceremony I really wasn't looking forwards to.

The pace only seemed to slow down as we walked down to a small space of land near the orchard where a lot of preparations for Dobby's funeral were set. Walking there, I couldn't help but get closer to Ron and our hands naturally intertwined. Would it always be like this from now onwards? All I knew is, I didn't want to let go.

With a crowd around him, Harry started digging, protesting when others offered the use of magic or help. As Harry dug deeper into the ground, Dean and Luna jumped down into the hole he had made with spades of their own, and together they worked in silence until the hole seemed deep enough.

Harry wrapped the body of the elf snugly in his jacket. With a small shock, I saw Ron sit on the edge of the grave and strip off his shoes and socks, which he placed upon the elf's bare feet. Dean produced a woollen hat, which Harry placed carefully upon Dobby's head, muffling his bat-like ears.

"We should close his eyes."

The voice came from Ginny, who was timidly approaching the grave, leaving the circle around it formed by her friends and family. The twins had put on a dark set of dress robes, a big contrast to the usual colourful outfits they used in their shop. Mr. Weasley had a traveling cloak on, Mrs. Weasley a large white apron, from the pocket of which protruded a bottle of what I recognized to be Skele-gro. Ron walked back and put an arm around me, hugging me tightly. Luna, who had now left the hole, bent down towards Dobby and closed his eyes gently, placing two fingers over the elf's eyelids and pulling them down over his glassy stare.

"There," she said softly. "Now he could be sleeping."

Harry placed the elf into the grave, arranged his tiny limbs so that he might have been resting, then climbed out and gazed for the last time upon the little body. The Weasley's orchard was hardly a place as grand as the lake-side of Hogwarts that hosted Dumbledore's funeral. There were no rows golden chairs, no grand speeches, no one coming from abroad for one last goodbye. But I felt like Dobby deserved all of that and more.

"I think we ought to say something," declared Mr. Weasley. "Just a few words, is all"

"I'll go first, shall I?" piped up Luna expectantly.

And as everybody looked at her, she addressed the dead elf at the bottom of the grave. "Thank you so much, Dobby, for rescuing me from that cellar. It's so unfair that you had to die, when you were so good and brave. I'll always remember what you did for us. I hope you're happy now."

She turned and looked expectantly at Ron, who cleared his throat and said in a thick voice, "Yeah . . . thanks, Dobby."

The emotions were building up inside of me and I decided to let them out.

"Thank you Dobby, you wonderful elf who stuck by us through so much. Who so frequently did what we couldn't, from big to small things, looking out for us even when we didn't know we needed you." I paused and Ron squeezed my hand, giving me confidence to continue. "You weren't a servant. You were a guardian angel, you were a saviour, you were a friend. Thank you for everything."

Once finished, I noticed that my cheeks were wet with tears. Ron pulled me towards him again into a comforting hug.

Harry, Fred and George shovelled back the dirt into the hole and then carried a headstone towards the place where Dobby's head would be under the dirt. Intensely aware of everyone's eyes resting on him, Harry's hand shook as he attempted to write on the stone with the aid of his wand.

"Wait, I'll help." I stepped forward and grabbed his wand hand, stopping it from shaking. With my hand on his, he steadied and branded the stone with an epitaph.

"Here lies Dobby, a free elf"

A sense of finality came from that headstone. Such a brave creature, one of the few that was given a choice, and his choice was to die for those he loved. It's a trait I admire most, that selfless-ness and willingness to go all out with what you believe. And one I realize I've been taking advantage of in a most horrifying of ways, not only with Dobby but mainly with Ron. Would I be able to do for him what he did for me? I liked to believe so, that I'd be that strong for him, but a little voice in the back of my head cause my staunchness to I was that resolute, how had I let all of this happen so often? How had I made the person I'd die for leave? How did I allow him to take my place in the worst of circumstances?

My thoughts were interrupted by a hug from behind. Ron was on his knees, holding both of us, and I reflexively hid my face in his shoulders, allowing my emotions a release. This kind of touch was something we'd allowed ourselves to slip into near the end of last year, so comfortable and obvious, but that the locket killed long before Ron had left. The locket, his absence, and then my grudge. Oh how stupid I'd been…

We heard sniffles from those around us. Mrs. Weasley was blowing her nose into a handkerchief, crying silently at the scene while leaning on Mr. Weasley, who had an arm around her. But she wasn't alone- Dean had a hand covering his eyes, Ginny was turned away from everyone to hide her face and the twins seemed to have, for the first time in their life, a frown. Even Luna's usual aloof expression had been replaced by an odd, melancholic half-frown, one that seemed to both be intensely sympathetic and so removed from it all. The notable absences were Griphook and Mr. Ollivander – admittedly, the latter was still very ill from his last few months in captivity, and from what I recall the goblin was moving very stiffly, apparently out of more than just annoyance for his current happenstance.

Ron tugged at my shoulders and our embrace dissolved, though our hands kept tied together. We got to our feet and the circle around us dispersed silently, now walking towards the Borrow to start the day proper. Me, Ron and Harry lagged behind, Harry's words from yesterday on our minds.

"We have to worry up. How do we talk to first?" Harry spoke, determined. "Hallows or Horcruxes?"

Talking with Griphook and Mr. Ollivander got us some results, but none were exactly ideal. The evil "Unbeatable Wand", as Ron called it, was apparently not just a figment of historical embellishment,. The third Hallow was still a complete mystery. More urgent was the issue of the Horcruxes, and the recent revelation that there was a Horcrux in the Lestrange's vault, with one of last ones probably being at Hogwarts. Lying to Griphook was not something I particularly approved of, but something in the back of my mind told me the goblin wasn't void of trickery of his own, and in this case destroying the Horcruxes was a must, no matter the cost.

No matter the cost.

In the now empty Weasley living room, the planning of how we'd break into Gringotts started with the realization that someone would have to use Polyjuice to pretend to be Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Is there really no alternative?" I spoke timidly, gazing at Ron.

Putting myself in Ron's shoes, seeing me as his torturer and almost executioner, was something that made me want to wretch. That vile, disgusting woman, who had done us so much harm and nearly taken him away for good…and I'd have to be her, for all intents and purposes. I'd have to mutter and cackle through her rotten teeth, I'd have to copy her mannerisms, I'd have to see Ron look at me knowing I'd looked like the one who had brought him so much pain. And in a way, I was.

"It'll only be for a little while" Ron squeezed my hand, he seemed to understand my fears.

"And you'll be using her actual wand," said Harry, nodding toward the walnut wand, "so I reckon you'll be pretty convincing."

I held the wand in my hand and the feelings of repulsion only intensified. All day I had avoided magic, doing small chores the muggle way, because I knew that I'd have to use that wand to cast anything.

"I hate this thing," I said in a low voice "I really hate it. It feels all wrong, it doesn't work properly for me… It's like a bit of her."

"It'll probably help you get in character, though," said Ron. "Think what that wand's done!"

He didn't seem to realize that his words took the opposite effect of what they intended.

"But that's my point!" I said "This is the wand that tortured Neville's mum and dad, and who knows how many other people? This is the wand that killed Sirius! This is the wand that tortured you…"

Ron was staring at me, sadness in his eyes, mouth agape.

"I miss my wand, that's all…" It was true, but at that moment I was just trying to change the subject.

"Blimey, look at the time." Harry said, pointing to his watch. It signalled 1 AM. "I'll be going up then, we'll plan later. It's not like we're going to break into Gringotts tomorrow. Ron, you coming?"

It was now Harry's turn to gaze down at our joined hands, and then he spoke. "Guess not."

Turning away as Ron assured him he'd be up in a bit, Harry climbed up the stairs and left us alone.

It was almost something of an unspoken little game between us - who's going to release first? I sure wasn't, and I hope he wasn't intending on doing so either, no matter how sweaty his hands got or how annoying getting stuck with some of my hair in his face might be. I should have tied it up, now that I think about it…wait, doing that with one hand would be impossible, so no chance! Well, now that I realize it, trips to the loo might be an obstacle, and eating will certainly be a challenge, but there's still quite some time until our next meal, and I think I can eat without a knife just fine.

"You must be getting tired of me, I've been hogging all the time you've had back home. I'm surprised Ginny hasn't tossed me into the lake." I poke at Ron half-jokingly, hoping for a negative response.

"You keep banging on about being a burden to me and I just don't see it, sorry. Besides, I've been feeling proper rubbish, so it'd be brilliant if you could feed me lunch. I'm starving!" The teasing in his voice was evident. Him being ill couldn't make me a complete softie all of a sudden, and I doubt he'd have it any other way.

"You wish, Ron Weasley, you're not an invalid! That's just an excuse so you don't have to feed yourself with only one hand." If my slip up hadn't revealed what I thought was going on, my eyes turning towards our joined hands must have. I felt myself turning red and hid my face slightly in my hair. He shot me a knowing grin. Did he…get it?

"I thought you knew me better than that Hermione, I'd eat with no hands at all if I had to. If after 7 years of eating together I still haven't learned to clamp my lips while munching – like you always remind me – do you think a little amputation is going to stop me?" Unfortunately, he had a point. Real charming, as always. He seemed to read my mind. "If you think I'm letting you go first, you're mental. Luckily, you'll be too put out by watching me eat to hold on much longer!"

I couldn't help but groan. For so long after coming back, Ron had been way too polite and proper to please me and make amends. While I did appreciate the effort, I missed the old Ron, and this was a definite sign that he was back…gross as it was.

"You're sure about that?" I raised my eyebrows, looking him in the eye. "I'm going to nag you like you've never been nagged before."

"Why I'm thoroughly gutted, I never expected such a thing from you Ms. Granger!" His sarcasm was even more evident than before, putting on a fancy tone. He really was back. "I reckoned that side of you was gone, since you spent half of the last year going full-on Florence Nightingale with me. I th-"

"What did you say?" I couldn't hold the shock in my voice back.

"Uh…that I didn't expect-" He seemed confused more than anything. How had he blurted out such a reference this casually? Was he still loopy in the head?

"No, not that! You mentioned Florence Nightingale!" I pulled him close to look him in the eye and make sure it was really him, but seemed to forget that another unintended consequence of that would be…well, getting close to him, and now his scent drowned my senses. Just a few inches closer, and I'd be touching his chest, just like the previous night in his room. Through all of this, I managed to keep my eyes locked on his.

"Well, yeah! I see how this looks." He rubbed the back of his head with his free hand and grinned, like a little kid who had just been caught doing something naughty. "You see, when we were in the tent- I mean, after I came back after cocking things up. You were cross with me, and I wanted to make it up to you. I was also bored out of my mind, so I decided to read a bit of some muggle books you brought to get to you know your world a little bit better. I hoped it would be useful someday, y'know, if we ever managed to patch things up. Is it that big of a deal?"

My eyes must've widened to the size of bludgers as he spoke, by the way he was looking at me. His eyes were so dreamy up close, the tip of his nose so quaint and adorable, the red curtains that hung over his forehead…I couldn't let myself get lost like this, not yet.

"Absolutely! So what else do you know?" I attempted to seem interested in his words moreso than his face. He seemed to get startled into the conversation as well, blinking quickly to regain his thought process.

"I reckon giving it all away now would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it? I fancy keeping you guessin'." Ron said as he pulled me closer and put his arm around me, still holding my hand. As he did, his thumb massaged the back of my hand, going in circles slowly. I could get used to flirting like this.

"You should have gone into muggle studies. I knew you missed revising!" His eyebrows bent together in confusion as I spoke. "Let's do a basic quiz. What's the name of the Queen of England?"

He took his un-bound hand to his chin, pretending to be in deep thought. After a few moments, he replied.

"Elizabeth, innit?"

"Wow, that's correct! You are now at a pre-school level, I am so proud of you Ron!" I let out a giggle as I answer, which he seems to be even more confused over than the previous reply. His face opened into a wide grin and he got a bit closer, but our position was a bit awkward. Shifting quickly to be more comfortable, I kick my shoes off and let my head fall onto his lap and my legs onto the rest of the couch, keeping both his hand and his eyes locked in mine. The intimacy of the act wasn't lost on me, but seeing Ron show that much interest was making me feel reckless.

"Now, for something a bit harder…" It was my turn to put my hand on my chin while thinking of what to ask. "What's the name of that muggle device that magically keeps food fresh?"

"A fridge! I looked it up once when I was tired of doing cooling charms over the food we got, it seems brilliant!" He held me a bit closer as he answered, making me temporarily lose my focus. Quick, quick, a question!

"Uhhh what's a calculator?"

"An enchanted thingy that helps in arithmancy- wait, are you sure muggles aren't nicking our stuff and calling it theirs?" He again pulled me slightly closer as he answered. So that's how it's going to be, huh?

"Oh of course not Ron, muggles have a lot of magic of their own, trust me!" I proclaimed with a wink, before continuing hastily. "What's a car with only two wheels?"

"A bike." Closer.

"What's my favourite food?"

"That ghastly french dish we ate in fourth year… bouli, bolilla-, bouillu-" He remembered that, from when the Beauxbatons came to Hogwarts. But I thought he hated it!

"Bouillabaisse, and it's quite tasty, thank you very much." I answer with a pout, and this time he didn't pull me in closer, looking put out.

"Oi, I thought this was questions about muggles! You cheated!" He said, outraged

"I was made by muggles, surely questions about me are perfectly valid." I was never a good actress, but I was hoping this time my angelic expression didn't betray me. I inched a bit closer to him to make up for his lack of action. "Rapid fire round, go! How do muggles fly?"

"Airplanes" His hand that held mine grazed my waist as the other clutched my upper back, bringing me higher and closer to him. His smell overwhelmed me and I let myself go, as if I was being carried away in a cloud. Letting him take control was something I rarely did, but that was changing and I made a mental note to allow it more often.

"What's my favourite colour?"

"Violet." He knew! He pulled me in closer and our faces were inches away from each other now. I could feel his warm breath on my lips, but I wouldn't dare look down as his bright blue eyes still had me prisoner. It was finally happening, after so much pain, so much sorrow, our longing had finally come to fruition. Oh Merlin I love him, just a bit more! He's holding me so near, but not pulling me closer, it feels like torture!

"What's… two plus two?" I give up all pre-tense as our chests touch and our noses nearly touch. I'm sure that if he couldn't hear my heartbeat before, I could feel It now. I was just waiting for his answer, for him to finally take me. What would the Hermione of four years ago think, seeing that everything we'd wish for, even through all the struggles, had come true?

"Four."

Our joined stare finally broke as we both closed our eyes and made to close that excruciatingly small distance between us, but a loud pop broke the silence in the room before our lips met. The sound came from outside, which meant someone had apparated within the premises, but not that many people were allowed within the wards of the burrow.

"Bugger." Ron dropped me slowly to the couch once again and I sat upright, as if we were kids who had been caught doing something wrong. He sighed, wrinkles of disappointment covering his face, mirroring my own.

Hasty footsteps came from outside and Ron stood up to go look through the window, but the door opened before he could say anything.

"You have to leave, all of you, now!" Percy Weasley was dressed in torn robes and was visibly out of breath, but he shouted immediately. "They know."


	5. Raw

AN: Sorry for not saying much for the past while, exams and projects got in the way. I had planned on updating this sooner. Sorry also for the monster of an author's note I'm about to write, but I feel like I've been holding back a bit on communication and I like being open.

First of all, I want to thank all reviews! They mean a lot, more than you imagine, be them positive or negative, larger detailed ones or just a couple of words. That and for everyone that followed or is otherwise silently keeping up with the story I thank you.

Second, I really enjoy what I'm writing but I imagine this is going to be one of the last few chapters. I had initially intended on making a longfic as my first, diverging from canon a fair bit and maybe even re-writing the ending to DH completely and writing at least a few chapters of post-War as well. I've realized a few things since: namely, that my skill as a writer is still quite below what I'd need for something of that scope; that it'd require to manage lot of moving parts and messing about with the proper lore, plot and other characters, when I'm honestly more interested in how all of this affects Ron and Hermione; that if I did, the already gloomy tone would probably have to become much darker (as it did in canon), and I feel like I'm already pushing the angsty line far enough. So I might not do that and go with the other option – make the fic shorter and give it as good of an ending as I can, while not leaving too much in the way of open ends.

That said, and while I very much like the subject of this story, I also have plenty of other ideas floating around, both for longfics and for one-shots, both canon-compliant and very AU, both angsty and near-crackfic (all of it with Ron/Hermione). And I'd like to share them with you guys, so if you're enjoying this please give them a chance. My main goal in writing is to improve, so I hope it's only up from here.

Oh, and one last thing. If you're a fan of Romione, join us at /r/HPRomione or the Romione discord at / cWsBqF

We're a growing community and we'd love to have you!

After boring you to tears with my nonsense, here's the chapter.

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Muriel Prewett's house – mansion, more like – was an enormous, expansive abode, nothing like the cramped Burrow, where we had stayed at just days prior. It's a wonder how there can be so much of a class divide even within the same family, where some lived a luxurious, lavish lifestyle while others were struggling to make ends meet and afford basic necessities such as proper robes, living off of one salary and whatever their crops gave them. Unlike the Malfoy's, however, Muriel's mansion was quite colourful both on the outside and inside, showing a big contrast to the old lady's usual bitter disposition. Despite the luxury of her manor, Ron's Aunt Muriel lived on her own, probably due to a mix of her children all being adults already and being a complete hag. She was catered to by a couple of house-elves, dressed in fancier robes than most non-Hogwarts Elves I had seen in the wizarding world, but whose sight still made my need for justice tingle.

Three floors of all kinds of rooms ensured that we'd all be allowed a room of our own if we so desired, but we opted to stick together and share rooms just like we had at the Burrow, though with a different distribution, much to Ginny, Harry and Dean's relief. Why exactly we had made that choice was still up in the air, as Muriel insisted on that we put ourselves as much at home as possible, before going back to acting grumpy over Harry's untied shoelaces or the width of my ankles. It's possible that the war just made us yearn for closeness to each other and that the solitude of one-room-for-each would be too much; maybe Mrs. Weasley didn't want to make too much of a mess or imply we were going to stay for a long stretch of time; perhaps it was the sight of Minny and Soren, Aunt Muriel's house-elves, that brought back the memory of Dobby, and the choice was a gesture to attempt and reduce their workload. All in all, if the choice was really due to closeness, then for me it was…sub-optimal. As much as I enjoyed Ginny and Luna's friendship and felt comfortable sleeping near them, nothing could replace Ron's cuddly embrace, even if the one time it did happen the positioning with my chair next to his bed gave me a cramped neck the following day.

The previous night, Percy's warning did all but shake the Burrow's foundations. The prodigal son returned to save his family from peril and tears were shed, most of all Mrs. Weasley who had quite a dark cloud lifted from her mind. They had kept any more in-depth conversations to today, but Percy gave us the assurance that he'd keep working as a double-agent from inside the ministry. According to him, he hadn't made a move sooner due to a mix of pride and being afraid of getting found out, but our near-miss with the Death Eaters made the search for "Undesirable Number One" and his two best friends much more erratic, which included going after the rest of the Weasleys.

Me and Ron kept together through all of that and the trip to Muriel's, almost letting go of each other's hand when he hugged Percy (oh how awkward that was!) and when we had to gather our possessions. The unfortunate but inevitable happened when Ginny, who had apparently caught onto us, karate-chopped our joined hands from behind by surprise, leading me onto our new room at Muriel's and proceeding to stick her tongue out at her brother. Our room was clearly unused by anyone in ages despite being very clean (undoubtedly the work of the house-elves!). Having quite a few very large and comfortable beds to pick from, the three of us settled on the beds closest to the far wall, leaving a cluttered mess of belongings in the rest of the room. Soon enough, and after having to deflect Ginny's inquiries about how my relationship with her brother had evolved

Now we were at a bit of a standstill. All day we've been taking care of various sorts of logistics, talking with Percy, and generally trying to recover and pace ourselves before re-starting the adventure. The Weasleys as a whole settled into the new environment quite quickly. Mrs. Weasley took over kitchen duty with the house-elves (mostly as a distraction from the stories she had been hearing from Percy and about our year on the run, I assumed) and Fred and George fetched all of their inventory from "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" and stashed it away in one of the mansion's many rooms. To laughs from all but Muriel, Griphook and Ollivander, given that the latter two were still resting in their rooms, they transmitted a long session of "Potterwatch" with just the two of them, giving the world an update on us (without giving too much away) and then finishing with an ad for "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes – now by owl!".

Being constantly surrounded by family members of his, there was a barrier between me and Ron that forced our interactions onto polite casualness, each of us unsure of how to proceed when not alone. So we had spent the day mostly left to our own devices, but after supper I decided to try and get him on my own. It's such a big house, how hard could it be to get him alone in a room to snog his brains out? Well, maybe not that last part yet, but I at least wanted to break the ice that had formed since our hands separated. Seeing him run off to the loo after a heated game of pool with Fred, I sneakily put down a book I had been absently reading and followed him, giving him some space so he didn't notice. Once he left the loo, I walked up to him.

"I couldn't help but notice you took a while to make some very basic maths" I said, trying to bring back the magical, playful tone from the night where we were so close to kissing.

"You were right, Arithmancy IS valuable, I suppose I should be near you when you study for it next time" Ron replied with a spark in his eye, overlooking the fact that I might not have any Arithmancy lessons ever again, but his voice seemed restrained. Was us chatting not something he wanted, or was there something else?

"I'm right?! Who are you and what have you done with my Ron?" I ask in fake outrage.

Ron guffawed loudly then closed his eyes and pursed his lips together.

"What?" I protested.

"No, it's, it's nothing really."

"Come on, spit it out."

"Well, it's stupid, but you calling me "my Ron" just reminded me of "Won-Won", and that's the last…thing I want to be thinking of right now." He shuddered as he spoke. "I've really been an ass to you, haven't I?"

Being compared to her stung, even if it wasn't done maliciously, so I made a mental note to not call him that again. We had stopped mentioning Lavender soon after their very public break-up which was definitely not at all caused by me being in his dormitory with him (a fact that secretly filled me with joy), but I was pretty sure I had already told him directly that it was all in the past, hadn't I? Steading himself, he continued speaking.

"Yeah, you've said you've forgiven me already and to let it go, but I can't. Just like I can't forget leaving you and Harry on your own, even with the Horcrux and the wards that didn't allow me to come back." His eyes drifted to the floor and I could feel the shame emanate from his statement. I wanted to interrupt but letting him continue felt like the wiser option. "And for the second year in a row, the only reason we even get back to speaking terms is me nearly dying."

"It wasn't the only reason." I blurt out, but he continues.

He leaned back against an end table filled with black and white moving pictures of people with very stern, stoic expressions, clearly older members of Ron's extended family.

"There shouldn't be any need for a reason to begin with, I shouldn't have cocked it all up in the first place, should I?" He paused, a hand covering his eyes that I kept staring at. "I'm such a tosser, Hermione."

He had never been so raw with me and I'm unsure if that's a good or a bad thing. I leaned back against the end table next to him and brushed up against him shyly.

"Well… if you want to atone for your sins, you can start by not comparing me to Lavender."

"Ah bollocks, that's not what I-."

"We can talk about it like adults later. Just go back to being the normal Ron and leave the sulking to Harry, please?" I tried my hand at an adorable voice and it seemed to work as smiled again, mischievously. "Being a prat suits you much better."

"Postponing the serious talk? Now you're the one that doesn't sound like my Hermione." He put a lot of emphasis on the "my", making me giddy inside at the thought of what that could imply. "And let's face it, you were no saint either. For real, McLaggen? Blimey, and here I thought you had standards!"

I punched him in the shoulder and we both share a much-needed laugh.

"He was quite disgusting really. I wish you'd come, I'd much rather have kept my tonsils unscathed. It was wretched and I didn't want it at all."

Again with the unnecessary info. Ron paused for a second, processing what I just said. Hopefully he'd focus on the part where I said I wanted him and not the part where I told the man I love that I snogged someone else behind his back.

His face contorted into an outraged expression, wrinkles around his eyes and an open mouth in disgust. Oh no.

"Merlin, I'm feeling vile just imagining it. That bloke is lucky I only found out about that now…And for the record, Hermione, I'm changing my final answer. Two plus two now equals three hundred ninety-four as far as I'm concerned, ugh!" He made a puking motion as he said this, but only at the end did I realize he wasn't taking it seriously. Half-seriously, maybe.

"At least you didn't have to see it happen in front of you for six months, now that was vile!"

"Ah c'mon Hermione, it was like three weeks. The…thing with Lav started in late November and only lasted proper until Christmas, and-"

"Lav!" I pout, outraged. He continues, rolling his eyes.

"Went home for break, then I spent four months running from her at the same pace you were running from me! And it's not like anything happened that you didn't see."

"You made sure I saw everything, did you?"

He looks at the ceiling, putting off answering. I stumped him. It was all to make me jealous after all?

"Unlike you who hides her letters and kisses, leaving me in the dark if you even fancy anyone or not!"

He paused again and the look of shame returned, this time for having this outburst. What was he even talking about? I know I put a lot of mystery around my letters to Krum, but I never lied when I said he was just a friend. There's more to this, and he sensed I was going to about to ask about it.

"Sorry. It's…future adult conversation bollocks, future Ron and future Hermione can deal with it. I'll shut up now."

I nodded and flashed him a smile, but instead of going back to the bickering mood we so often shared (and had just done so up until his last jab), he stayed gloomy.

"Just one last thing for now. Tell me, you coming around and dropping our rows when I nearly die…it's not pity, is it? I could deal with anything except that." His rawness came back, and this time I couldn't help but reply in the same manner. I reached out my hand for his and he grabs it, bringing me the warmth I so missed from the previous night.

"No, quite the opposite actually. It's…admiration." I looked up at him and his eyes beamed back at me, glowing in their glorious blues. I allowed myself to get lost in that look, that moment, and he seemed to do the same. Normally, I'd be urging myself to move closer, yearning for a touch of his lips, but this was much purer. This shared look was worth more than a hundred missed kisses.

Allowing the moment to pass with a smile, Ron brought me closer, put his arms around me and kissed my forehead.

"You're mental, you know that?" he said, hugging me tighter.

The sweetness was shattered by a frustrated yell from the other end of the corridor as a door dramatically opened. Ginny stepped into the corridor, opening another door opposite to the one she had just barged through, entering and closing it behind her with violence. Seconds later, Harry ran up to that door, cast Alohomora on the keyhole and entered after her.

Laughing amusedly, without the tinge of over-protectiveness that so often crossed him while dealing with matters of Ginny's love life, Ron locked his hands around my back and rested his chin on my head, still leaning back. Feeling more comfortable than I had since our small questionnaire in one of his couches, I allowed the smell of his hair to overwhelm me. Just like I remembered it from the Amortentia.

"No, no! Absolutely not, Harry Potter! You come back after months – months! And you think you can get me back just by saying sorry?!" Ginny's thunderous shouts made both of us giggle, recognizing the pattern of her exasperation.

"Well, what else can I say?" Harry fought back. I'd never been privy to one of their rows, but I surely didn't expect it to be as fiery as mine and Ron's. Dean's head peaked out of the open door on the opposite end of the corridor with a mortified expression.

"Oh, I don't know! Ask Ron and Hermione, they were with you all these months and I wasn't! I'm sure they'll have an answer for you, oh boy-who-lived-for-a-snog!"

"Obviously, that's exactly what I had on my mind when obsessing over Voldemort and living in fear for my life – snogging!" Harry replied sarcastically.

Ron and I cringed at the venom spewed.

"Was I that bad when you came back?" I whispered to Ron.

"Worse, at least Harry denied you your wand, Ginny still has hers."

We shared a frightened look, understanding what that meant. Seconds later, Harry was running out of the room, bats springing from his nose and following him to pelt at his head.

"I better go check on him" Ron said, giving me one last kiss on the head and rushing off after Harry.

Looking at him from afar, I could start to understand his hesitation somewhat. After all this time, it still all boiled down to him not thinking he was good enough for what we had, and not wanting to move forward without being completely sure that it was what I wanted too and not just a move out of pity. It reminded me his reaction to my invite to Slughorn's Party, which he didn't take as a serious date because he thought it was a pity invite, that I just wanted to not make him feel left out.

I walked to the room where Ginny had her blow-out with Harry and found her ugly-crying on a chair next to a grand piano. She was still in the dark about too much of what we had went through – even after coming back, we kept the Horcrux hunt a secret, upholding our promise to Dumbledore – and it must've been burning her up inside. Comforting her, my mind brought me back to all of what's still unsaid between me and Ron. I needed to make him know, I'm fully aware that telling him I admire him isn't enough to assuage his concerns. There's still so much to discuss, and I can't wait for our eventual "adult conversation" about everything that's been kept a secret all these years. But that can wait. We have to actually get together first, a barrier that I'm still uncomfortably aware we haven't properly gotten over yet. And, more importantly, we have a Dark Lord to kill - the only way to make sure our future together can become a reality.


End file.
